Jessie's Klainemas Miracle
by JessJesstheBest
Summary: It's the Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2016! These are also published on my tumblr: saywhatjessie./tagged/klaineadvent
1. Honey, Honey

Day one: Audience

* * *

The screech of one of Kurt's thrifted dining room chair scraping against the floor made him jerk his head up from where he was bent over his work at the kitchen table.

He found the moving chair instantly, following the high back as it slowly moved past his seat, but had to take a moment to spy the tiny dark head just peeking out over the table's edge.

"Rosa, honey," he started, watching his child drag the chair to the middle of the room. He winced as the feet caught the edges of the tiles. _If she chips those legs after I just refinished–_ "Sweetheart, what are you doing?"

She didn't answer him, continuing determinedly to center the chair in the open floor space of their kitchen, panting a little with the effort of hauling such a heavy thing. Kurt didn't offer to help her, watching in bewildered amusement from the table.

When she seemed to be satisfied with the location, she climbed up to stand on the chair.

Kurt started to move. "Oh, no, Rosa, honey, please get–"

" _ **PAPA!**_ "

Kurt winced, sitting back in his chair and clapping a hand over his ear at the volume. She was only four years old but she knew how to project her voice, that was for sure.

Kurt heard crashing and his bedroom door slam open as Blaine came scrambling into the kitchen, looking frantic.

"What is it, baby? What's up? Where's Daddy?"

"Daddy's right here," Kurt said, reaching up to grab Blaine's arm, soothingly.

Blaine reached with his other arm to grip Kurt's hand, breathing out in relief.

He leaned into Kurt, resting his arm around Kurt's shoulders. "Oh, Rosa, honey, you scared me."

Rosa fidgeted where she stood on the chair. "Sorry, Papa. Please sit next t' Daddy. I need a audience."

Kurt snorted softly into his hand and Blaine shushed him, letting his arm drop as he pulled a chair toward him. His chair does not scrape the tile.

"Where's your brother?" Blaine asks her, resting his hand on Kurt's knee. "Don't you want him in the audience?"

Rosa nods frantically, her eyes going wide.

Kurt winces, "Please don't–"

" _ **CIAN!**_ "

Kurt sighed. Blaine whispered, "Sorry." and kissed his cheek. Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine's shoulders and Blaine settled happily into his side.

Their six-year-old's door didn't slam open, proving immediately that he was better trained than his Papa. He peeked into the kitchen, shyly, but glared at his sister. "What?"

Blaine patted his lap. "Come on, bud, your sister needs an audience."

Cian scowled but shuffled over to where his parents were sitting, allowing Blaine to pick him up and settle him on his knee.

Blaine bounced him a little until he smiled, and then gestured to Rosa. "The floor is yours, my lady."

Rosa sucked her lips into her mouth, probably trying not to giggle that Blaine called her a lady. She looked like she was trying to stay serious.

Kurt hid his smile behind his hand.

"Daddy. Papa. Cian." Rosa said, putting her hands behind her back and rocking on her feet. Kurt leaned forward, reflexively, to catch her, josling his husband and son. "I'm gonna be a artitect."

Blaine grabbed Cian around the middle as Cian groaned. He said, "Oh, Rosa, honey, that's great!"

"That's stupid."

"Cian!" Kurt scolded.

Rosa stamped her foot, making the chair wobble.

"Okay, baby, why don't we get off the chair." Rosa looked at the floor, nervously. Kurt sighed. "Blaine?"

"Yeah." Blaine stood up, transferring their son from his lap to Kurt's before going to fetch their daughter from her chair island.

He settled her on his lap across the table from Kurt and Cian.

Kurt bounced Cian on his knee, hands on his shoulders. When they were in high school, they liked the idea of doing what Rachel's dads did: mixing their sperm so they wouldn't know who their child's biological father was. But when Rachel volunteered to be their surrogate and egg donor, Blaine insisted they use Kurt's. Rachel already kind of looked like Blaine, so this way the baby could look a little like both of them.

So here was Cian, with his blue eyes and curly dark hair. Nose like his mother, but Irish name for his Papa.

And his Daddy's attitude.

"Cian, sweetheart, what do you say to your sister?"

He pouted while he bounced, trying very hard to remain grumpy.

"Sorry, Rosa." He grumbled. He turned in Kurt's lap. "But daddy, it is stupid."

Blaine made a disapproving noise in his throat. Rosa sniffed.

Kurt tapped Cian's nose. "You know we don't use that word."

Cian crossed his eyes to look at his nose where Kurt booped it, releasing a noisy breath through his nostrils. "But it is. She can't even say it right! She doesn't know what being an ar-ki-tect is."

"Do too!" Rosa protested, leaning the entire upper half of her body over the table. Blaine held her tight at the waist. "They do buildings! And bidges!"

"Bridges," Blaine corrected gently, kissing her head."

"Yeah!" Rosa crossed her arms, throwing her torso backwards onto Blaine in a pout, knocking the air out of him.

Kurt had to hide his smile again.

"You, see, Cian. Your sister wants to be an architect. She knows all about it."

Cian, humphed, mirroring Rosa by crossing his arms and forcefully leaning back on Kurt.

Kurt kissed his head.

Blaine took a deep break, purposefully making his chest move to make Rosa giggle. "Well, I for one am very excited to see buildings designed by the famous Rosa Benita Hummel-Anderson."

Rosa turned on Blaine's lap, her tiny forehead scrunched in confusion. "What did you call me, Papa?"

Blaine startled, mirroring his daughter's furrowed brow.

Rosa was adopted. She'd been with their family for a couple of years now and didn't remember much of the Cuban family she'd come from. But they kept her name and had several books and movies on hand for when she got a little older if she was curious about where she'd come from.

This looked like the first time she recognized a difference between she and her brother. Kurt tensed.

"That's your name, angel. Rosa Benita Hummel-Anderson. Just like your brother is Cian Everett Hummel-Anderson." Kurt squeezed Cian for good measure.

Rosa still looked confused. "But my name is Rosa-honey."

Blaine punched out a surprised laugh, rocking them both on the chair. "What?"

"You and Daddy call me Rosa-honey. That's not my name?"

Kurt buried his face in Cian's neck to hide his snorting. Cian jerked away, probably because Kurt was tickling him.

"No, s–" Kurt squeezed him. "Sister." Kurt ran a hand through his hair in approval. "Honey is a nickname. Like buddy or sweetheart or angel. They call me honey, too."

Rosa nodded, pouting.

"Oh, honey, are you disappointed?" Rosa shook her head, still pouting. "Oh, Rosa." Blaine scooped her up, swinging her into the air and spinning. "Rosa Rosa Rosa Rosa Rosa!"

She was giggling again, disaster avoided. That is until Cian jumped off of Kurt's lap and started tugging on Blaine's pant leg, almost causing Blaine to trip over him. "Papa! Papa! I'm sad about not being honey, too!"

Blaine laughed, passing Rosa to Kurt so he could swing Cian around.

Kurt nuzzled his daughter, blowing raspberries into her neck until she was screaming with giggles again.

"So do you feel better, Rosa Benita?"

She giggled. "Yeah. Thank you, Daddy honey."


	2. Bed Etiquette

Day 2: Bed

* * *

Kurt and Blaine tried to restrain their giggles as they stumbled up to their apartment door.

Kurt shushed Blaine, even while he himself was giggling and clutching at the lapels of Blaine's jacket. "Blaine, Blaine, we have to be quiet." He buried his face in Blaine's neck to stifle his laughter which only made Blaine giggle more. "Blaine the kids are probably asleep."

Blaine hummed, nuzzling his forehead against Kurt's hair, a couple chuckles bubbling up despite himself. "I know, babe, I know." he removed his arm from around Kurt's waist and cupped his husband's jaw, bringing his face back.

It had been over 15 years since Kurt had first stopped Blaine on that staircase and Blaine felt that same swoosh in his stomach like he was looking at him for the first time. Like he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Because he was.

Aside from their two bundles of joy probably sleeping just on the other side of the door. But he wasn't looking at them at the moment.

He leaned up to kiss him, just a little, and Kurt smiled against his lips, his laughter turning into a sigh.

Blaine pulled back sooner than he'd have liked too, and sooner than Kurt would have liked based on the set of his mouth. Blaine stroked his thumbs along Kurt's cheekbones to make up for it.

"Deep breaths, love." He breathed in and out slowly, once, as an example. "You won't be happy if the kids wake up."

Kurt pouted but mirrored Blaine's breathing. Blaine smiled and stood on his toes to kiss Kurt on the nose. Kurt smiled back.

When they felt calm enough, they unlocked the door and headed inside, as quietly as they could.

"Rachel?" Kurt whisper yelled. "Rachel, are the kids–"

"We're in here!" Yelled their youngest. "Come look! Come look!"

Kurt sighed, shooting Blaine a look as if to say ' _I knew Rachel wouldn't put them to bed._ '

Blaine shrugged, pulling Kurt by the hand toward their bedroom, following the sound of giggles.

They stood in the doorway looking at the pile of shenanigans that was tangled on their bed. Everyone was in a galaxy onesie that Rachel must have brought with her. _Oh Rachel and her stars…_ Their friend and egg donor, Rachel, lay on her stomach with her head at the foot of the bed, her feet gently kicking at their pillows. Blaine shot a worried look at Kurt, knowing how strict he was about feet on his pillows and by the twist of his mouth, he'd noticed. Their four year old, Rosa, was laying on her stomach perpendicular to Rachel, her head meeting with Rachel's over a poster board positively covered in glitter and haphazardly cut pictures. Their eldest, Cian, sat cross-legged next to Rachel, bent over his own poster which was spread over Rachel's back. His brow was furrowed in focus as he moved his pink marker over the paper.

His face instantly relaxed when he looked up and saw his parents. "Daddy! Papa! Look!" He dropped his utensil to pick up the poster and Blaine felt Kurt's wince as the uncapped marker made contact with their duvet. "It's a vision board! Aunt Rachel helped!"

A smile ticked at Kurt's face even as his hands twitch, clearly wanting to snatch the mess off of their bed. Blaine squeezed his hand and grinned. "That looks great, pal!" He dropped Kurt's hand so he could run up to the bed and grab his son, who laughed at suddenly being lifted in the air. Blaine grabbed the poster in one hand with Cian in a football carry in his other arm. "Wow, look, we've got Glinda and Freddie Mercury and the moon."

"No Beyonce?" Kurt asked walking into the room, watching Blaine with amusement.

"I've got Beyonce, Daddy!" Rosa yelled and sprang up to her knees, crawling over Rachel to reach out for her father, who obliged by coming to pick her up. "I also have Reptar and the beach and Shia Luh-boof!"

Blaine laughed as Rachel grunted as the tiny knees made contact with her back, taking a little more time than the kids did to roll over and stand up.

She looked a little tired, a little sore from keeping up with their firecrackers, but she looked like the proudest and most smug woman in the world.

Blaine grinned at her. "Well thank you, Aunt Rachel, for this fun project. Right kids?"

"Thank you, Aunt Rachel," they chorused, obediently.

Rachel grinned wider. "Oh, anything for my _tiny stars_ ," she sang, punctuating with a pirouette, the stars on her onesie swirling with her spin like an actual galaxy. The kids clapped enthusiastically, even Cian where he was hanging under Blaine's arm.

Blaine put the poster down, and resettled Cian on his hip. "Well these tiny stars need to get some sleep." He gestured for Rosa and she left from Kurt to run across the bed and jump on Blaine's back. He only grunted a little. "I think it's my turn to read them a story, right team?"

"Harry Potter!" Cian and Rosa yelled together. They started babbling to each other, over Blaine's shoulder, trying to decide which part they wanted to here, already knowing the books better than they knew most sesame street episodes. Blaine shot Kurt a significant look while they were distracted. ' _Don't kill Rachel.'_

Kurt gestured to the bed.

Blaine just looked harder.

Kurt sighed, rolling his eyes. ' _Fine._ '

Blaine grinned. "How about we do Harry's first trip to Diagon Alley!"

"Okay!"

Blaine carried them out, quickly. He didn't want to be there to hear Kurt lecture their high school friend about proper bed etiquette.


	3. Charmed, I'm Sure

Day 3: charm

* * *

The headlights skittered over the Hummel's garage, settling like narrowing eyes as Blaine pulled into the driveway.

He cut the engine like he was pulling a plug, the abrupt silence echoing the drop in his adrenaline not four hours prior.

It had been a rough case.

Blaine's dad didn't like to ask him for favors. He knew Blaine's history with violence, how he tensed when he was approached by groups of three. How he could only lands his fists on a bag, even if the hit was hard and accurate. Blaine's dad knew that his world should be kept apart from his son's. Blaine was best kept to show tunes and blazers and being the front man of an a Capella choir. Blaine's dad wanted Blaine to have that.

But Blaine's dad was Dean Winchester and he couldn't really afford to pass up favors.

"We just need you to watch this kid." Dean had explained, standing on Blaine's stoop on Friday. "We're too old now to be hanging around a sixteen year-old girl but we need eyes on her. Can you help us?"

Blaine had had a date with Kurt that weekend. He'd had plans. But his father had gripped his shoulders and looked him in the eye and asked for his help. How could Blaine have said no?

Blaine lay his head on the steering wheel in the driveway of Kurt's house. He shut his eyes and took deep, steadying breaths.

The girl's mom had been a ruguru. Now she was an orphan. Or she was an orphan again. She was adopted into that family, which is why she was still alive. No danger of her going savage like her mom.

It had been a rough case.

Blaine had had to be the one to tell her. About monsters and her parents and his father who had been the one to torch her mom. She was going to live with her dad's sister now. At least she didn't have to go back to an orphanage.

Blaine took one more deep breath in, collecting all of the fear and grief and guilt into that breath, and then released it. It shuddered on the way out.

He reached into his pocket, his fingers searching for the cool metal chain he'd picked up on his way back to Lima. The links in the chain were fine, but strong. Silver. It was long enough that the pendant at the end would be able to hide under the neckline of even Kurt's lowest tops.

Blaine's next breath was steadier. _Kurt_.

Blaine got out of the car, careful not to slam the door and disturb the sleepy neighborhood. It wasn't an obscene hour but one of those sleepy Sunday nights when the hours stretch and shrink, teasing the arrival of another Monday. He padded up to the door, his boots not making any trouble of the recently swept walkway. He shot off a text to Kurt, hoping Kurt would get it before he reached the door.

Blaine should never doubt Kurt. As soon as Blaine cleared the steps of the porch, the door was swinging open.

For a moment, Blaine forgot all of the weekend's drama, all of his anxiety, and he grinned. His face lit up like dry driftwood, ignited by the spark in Kurt's own smile and the warmth in his eyes.

"Blaine!" He ran forward and threw hi arms around Blaine's shoulders, burying his face in his neck. Blaine's arms came up immediately, arms wrapping around Kurt and pulling him tighter into his chest.

He'd gotten hugs when he'd said goodbye to his father and uncle after the case. Hugging Uncle Sammy was like being lifted by the warmest, friendliest sasquatch on the planet; his huge body and long arms wrapping fully around Blaine and made him feel safe. Hugging his dad was like the end of Return of the King when the entire kingdom bows to the Hobbits. It game him that same feeling of being praised and loved, like his father was proud of him. Dean didn't withhold affection from his son – he'd grown up with a father like that and he worked hard to overcome his issues with expressing emotion to give Blaine the father he needed – but Dean was better at expressing himself through touch. His hugs were the words of pride he couldn't express.

So Blaine had been hugged, he'd felt loved, not even three hours before. But Kurt's hug was the best. Kurt's hug felt like coming home.

"I thought you were with your dad! I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow," Kurt spoke into his neck, his hands coming up to smooth over Blaine's curls. He'd forgotten to bring hair gel to Cincinnati and hadn't had time to redo his hair before seeing Kurt.

"I know, it's kind of late," Blaine answered, pulling away a bit, hands stroking over Kurt's sides. "But I had to see you."

Kurt's smile softened, resting his forehead on Blaine's. Blaine closed his eyes, just for a moment. _Home Home Home Home._

He reached into his pocket, opening his eyes to look back at Kurt. "I also have something for you."

Kurt let go of Blaine in hi excitement, clapping his hands daintily. "A present?"

Blaine chuckled, pulling out the necklace. "Hold out your hands."

He did so and Blaine slowly lowered the chain into his waiting palms.

Kurt didn't say anything, his fingers moving curiously over the etchings in the pendant. Blaine could only watch him inspect the gift for a few seconds before he started babbling.

"It's a protection symbol. My dad made it."

"Is your dad a satanist?"

Blaine laughed, nervously. "The charm is iron to… represent… repelling evil spirits."

Kurt smiled at Blaine, but not in a way that made Blaine think he was taking the necklace seriously. "Blaine, I know we haven't been dating that long, but you know I don't have any outfits to match this with."

Blaine scratched his neck. "Well, it's not really supposed to be seen?" Kurt blanched. "I know! I know, which is why I got gray tones to go with your slate aesthetic." Kurt nodded approvingly. "But it's not really an accessory. It's like a shield. You keep it on you, under your clothes, every day. To keep me close so I can– so I can protect you."

Something in Blaine's tone made Kurt change the way he looked at him. He stepped closer, reaching for Blaine's elbow. "Blaine?"

Blaine swallowed, letting his chin drop to his chest. "When I was visiting my dad this weekend… I met up with a friend. This friend just lost," Blaine's breath hitched. "Both of her parents. And she was messed up, Kurt. She was really messed up. And I couldn't do anything."

Kurt took another step forward, reaching out his other hand to Blaine's arm. Blaine could feel the weight of the pendant through his sleeve.

"I know it's stupid," he said, taking the necklace from Kurt and opening the clasp. "But it would make me feel better if you would wear it. If I knew you were protected." He offered his hands, each holding one end of the necklace, hoping Kurt would step forward for Blaine to put it on him.

Kurt didn't disappoint.

He reached out one hand to cup Blaine's jaw, bringing him in for a brief but firm kiss. "Of course, Blaine. I'd love to wear it." And with that, he turned around, hunching a bit so Blaine could reach.

Blaine's relief was so instantaneous he thought he was going to pass out. Instead, he swung his arm over Kurt's head and reattached the clasp, immediately moving to hug Kurt from behind once his hands were free.

"Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt gripped Blaine's hand, turning back around so Blaine could see the charm.

It wasn't a pretty thing. It was dull gray, like most iron, hanging on a sparkly, fine, silver chain. The carvings in it were crude and shallow, Dean not being the most experienced charm maker. Blaine was hoping it was only temporary. That one day he could tell Kurt everything and Kurt could get an anti-possession tattoo, like the one Blaine had, very small, on the underside of his hip bone.

Until then, the anti-possession charm would have to work.

Blaine took it in his hand, standing close enough to Kurt that it didn't tug on the chain at all, and kissed it before pulling out Kurt's collar and dropping it beneath his shirt. "Now I'll always be with you."

Kurt snorted, his hands once again coming to wrap around Blaine's shoulders. "Yeah, you and your dad."

Blaine laughed, dropping his forehead against Kurt's. "Yeah, well that's not such a bad thing. You will never be safer than when Dean Winchester is with you."


	4. Ridiculous

Day 4: Dare

* * *

A low whistle brought Kurt's attention back to the bar. He'd been fiddling absently with his bottle of Heineken, troubleshooting a fabric issue he'd been having at work in his head. The bartender's leer had him back in the present, his gaze directed just past Kurt's head. Kurt turned to see who had caught Shawn's eye.

The guy wasn't the tall Abercrombie-type Kurt was expecting – Shawn's usual type. Kurt was closer to Shawn's usual type, by evidence that the bartender had hit on him the first time he'd come to Queen's.

That's Queen's the pub, not Queens the borough. Queen's Pub was one of those underground bars that were for folks who just wanted a drink after work, not like some of the usual gay bars that were all dancing and body paint. Those were fun, and Kurt liked them, but Queen's reminded him of Scandals back in Ohio. A little old school, a little backwoods. It was a slice of his old home in his new home of Manhattan.

So Kurt came here for a beer every once in awhile. If he was stuck on something at work or if he knew his husband was working late, he would hang out at Queen's and shoot the shit with Shawn.

Shawn who was ogling the fuck out of the guy who'd just walked in and had immediately been pulled into conversation with someone standing at a table near the door.

Kurt turned back to Shawn, delight curling in his mouth. "Got a little crush there, Shawny?"

The bartender barked a laugh. "That depends: does it count as a crush if I want to blow him in the back alley?"

Kurt pretended to consider it. "No, I think there's another word for that." Shawn grunted, making lewd expressions with his mouth. Kurt snorted. "Don't be gross, man. Look at him: he's like a unicorn."

Kurt turned slightly, taking a pull from his bottle, as he and Shawn both looked at the man. He was a head shorter than the guy he was talking to, gesturing expansively with his hands as if to make up the height difference with big body language. His hair was curly but styled, sides shaved in an undercut with the top falling just over the top of his forehead. He was wearing a bowtie.

Shawn grunted again. "Woof."

"He's wearing a bowtie." Kurt rolled his eyes.

Shawn leaned heavily on the bar, his whole body leaning into the point he directed at the object of their objectification. "Bowtie or not, Curly is sexy as fuck. Admit it."

Kurt smirked, privately. "I mean, I wouldn't kick him out of bed."

Shawn gasped, dramatically, his hand coming up to clutch at imaginary pearls. "Kurt! You, a married man? The scandal!"

Kurt flipped him off, draining his bottle. He turned to look back at the bow-tied man in question. He was already looking at Kurt, the boyish grin from before now melted into a sultry smile. He winked.

Kurt heard Shawn release a large, resigned exhale. "Well fuck me then, okay." Kurt looked back at him to see him pouting and aggressively wiping out a glass. "No cute boys for Shawn, they all like the married guy."

Kurt rolled his eyes, pushing his empty bottle towards the bartender, silently requesting another. "Don't be dramatic, Shawny. You pull at least five numbers from bear-chasers every night. You're not wanting for company."

Shawn popped the top off another Heinekan, quite aggressively in Kurt's opinion, and whined, "But I want this one."

Kurt pulled out his wallet, fighting a grin. "Here. I'll tell you what," He slid his debit card across the bar and raised his new beer. "Charge me for this and a vodka cranberry. Make the vodka cranberry. Give it to bowtie and tell him it's from you."

Shawn grumbled out a mild protest.

Kurt wiggled the card. "Come ooooon. The bar's covered. Ask him for his number." When Shawn still hesitated, Kurt leaned right into his face and delivered the death knell. "I dare you."

And these, Kurt had learned, were the magic words.

Shawn plucked Kurt's card off the bar, eyes going hard. "You're on."

Kurt smiled into his bottle as the bartender rang him out and made the drink. He smiled as he watched Shawn hand the drink off, the guy smiling at him and thanking him, sincerely. He smiled as Shawn put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head in that signature way he did when he told customers what time he got off so he could… get off. And he positively grinned when the guy shook his head apologetically, showed his left hand, and then pointed in Kurt's direction.

Shawn was bright read as he stormed back to the bar. "You're an asshole."

Kurt just shrugged, biting back a laugh as Shawn got back behind the bar and picked up a new dirty glass to aggressively wipe.

"You really shouldn't do that, Kurt." Blaine said, putting his hand on Kurt's knee as he settled next to him at the bar. "It's not nice. Now I have to pay for this drink."

"I paid for it already." Kurt told him, lifting his arm to rest over his husband's shoulders. "And it's his own fault for being a neanderthal."

"Or it's your fault for being shady." Elliot said, landing in the stool on Kurt's other side. "'Sup, Shawn."

"You were in on this?" Shawn asked him, betrayal making his voice go high pitched.

Elliot rolled his eyes. "Chill. You mean me stopping Blaine back there? No, I just know how they get."

Blaine shrunk, sheepishly, but Kurt just gripped Blaine tighter and raised his eyebrow as if to say 'your point?'

Shawn snorted, bitterly. "Whatever. I'm going to go see if Betsy needs a refill. She's nice to me."

Kurt and Blaine waved goodbye, Kurt more mockingly than his sincere and adorable husband who was sipping happily at his vodka cranberry. Shawn snorted again.

"You guys are ridiculous." Elliot said from the lip of his old fashioned.

They answered together. "Yup."


	5. Playing House

Day 5: Early

* * *

"Kurt what–"

"Shh!" He clapped a hand over Blaine's mouth and pulled him against the wall to prevent discovery. Kurt peeked around the door frame to see if they'd heard them but, no, Cian and his friend were still happily playing, oblivious to his parents' antics.

Kurt turned to beam at Blaine, ignoring the exasperation on his husband's face. "They're playing house," Kurt whispered in barely suppressed glee. "Cian's the dad and Marco is the papa."

Blaine sighed, letting his chin drop to his chest. "Kurt…"

"But Blaine, look how sweet they are!" Kurt peeked around the wall again and glimpsed Marco kiss Cian's cheek saying 'Off to work!' Kurt suppressed a squeal. "Just think of how cute our mixed grandkids are going to be."

"Kurt, we above all people know that's not how it works."

Kurt shushed him again.

Blaine sighed, coming up behind Kurt and wrapping his arm around him. He rested his Chin on Kurt's shoulder, watching with him for a few moments.

It wasn't anything too telling one way or another: the kids were just copying things they'd seen their own parents doing. Marco had two moms (as was common at Harvey Milk Elementary) so two boys being the parents wasn't anything new or odd to either of them.

But Kurt was still almost shaking with excitement.

Blaine pulled him back around the wall and down the hall, leaving the boys to their game. Kurt made a displeased sound in his throat and Blaine chuckled softly.

When they were back in their own room, Blaine pulled Kurt back into his arms, kissing the pout off his mouth. "I needed to take you out of there, you know that."

Kurt grumbled, crossing his arms between his and Blaine's chest. "I just want to be involved in our son's love life."

Blaine chuckled, removing his arms from around Kurt and reaching for Kurt's hands where they were crossed and buried in his armpits. "I think it's a little early for that, don't you?"

Kurt relented his hands, accepting the kiss Blaine dropped on his nose with grace. "I guess. I just–"

"I know," Blaine said, stroking his thumbs over Kurt's knuckles. "I wish I had parents to get excited about me liking boys at that age too."

Kurt softened, bringing their entwined hands up to his lips to kiss Blaine's thumbs.

"It is kind of early isn't it?"

"Well, Rosa announced yesterday that she was marrying Captain Marvel so there's probably something going around."

Kurt's face went white and Blaine laughed at him, kissing all over his face to try and bring some color back into it.


End file.
